Sonnot x+10: Worth the Same to Me

One minute of writing time,

One hour of reading,

and one inning of baseball

Are all worth the same to me.

One hour off work,

With other demands on my time,

Is worth five minutes of DVDs

For inspiration every night.

My system of value,

Idealogical and flawed,

Gets me into trouble,

But in my head, it's the law.

(No dollars were used

In this barter with the muse).

Sonnot x+9: Hide from the Ways

You might be my lover, if not, still my muse.

I might take a chance if there's no chance I'll lose.

I invite you to come over, be with me, take a seat

At the foot of my hand-crafted extended conceit,

At the meeting of minds, where we started it all,

Build a relationship 'til it grows tall,

Help me build a local, shared legacy,

Help me see how fun not-single could be.

I thought it was a good risk, if not a good idea.

I figured there was no harm. I didn't have to see ya.

I thought it was you who made my sun rise,

Or that, at the least, you were clearing the skies,

But now those skies are falling. We split up, run for cover,

Hide from the ways we've disappointed each other.

Sonnot x+8: Of Lakes and Libraries, Wings and Words

Your words fairly flutter, so friendly and light.
Without any effort, they seem to take flight.
Wings might be sufficient to buoy my day,
But without weight beneath them, they just float away.

As a muse, you know words must betray the heart's sin.
My muse, you're a lake, and I wish to dive in.
Such acts, pure and righteous, they cool passion first.
Jumping in with mouth open gives rest to my thirst,

But to drink you unfiltered may then leave me sick.
The honeymoon portion of life is too quick.
The waves of your drama stir me up and down,
and such a poor swimmer, I'm likely to drown.

So instead I'm content to just sit here, read eyes.
I'm loyal, attentive.  I wear friendship's disguise.
Your eyes are whole libraries.  Poems and art
Tell a story where two of us, living, shall part.

Sonnot x+7: Shag-Coated, Steel-Framed Teddy Bear

You invited me, made me your guest,
So I'll make myself at home, and be honest.
I'd been at this table for years before you came.
At one point I was even ahead in the game.

Life dealt me all the right cards, a four-leaf clover
and that one kind of girl: the hard-to-get-over.
Now loss has me hung over.  It changed me oddly.
My pain is modernity leaving the body.

You were lust at first sight, but I didn't make plans,
and desire for you won't change me as a man,
But I make you laugh, and you make me smile.
If you like that foundation, we should build for a while.

I'll be strong when you're weak.  When you need, I'll be there.
I'll be your shag-coated, steel-framed teddy bear.

Sonnot x+6: Why I Write, Part x+36: I'm a Poser, or The Poet's Studied Innocence

Each poem I write, my writing exposes
Me as a poser, my narration as poses,
Cliches I don't do enough to avoid.
The subject of romance makes me a schizoid,
As infatuation awakens a dancing spring satry,
Whose love triangles spark wars in summer's heat.  Later,

If unrequited, my poor swimmer dives in the sea.
If successful, I taste love's many nectars as a bee.
As we grow together, so my metaphor grows:
Our dual trunks spread branches, shade life's sun-baked road.
When love ends, I play the victim, or make jokes at my expense.
I decide to write of nature with a studied innocence.

This change of subject serves to clear my mind
Until I seek union again, some new pose to find.

Sonnot x+5: My Opening Move, or Wednesday, Feb. 22

I haven't decided what game I'm playing,
But this is my opening move:
I'll write a sexual, passion-displaying,
Honest poem to you,

and I'll tell you how my game ends,
what I intend to do:
My waves will crash 'til your walls relent,
and pour ecstasy into you,

But before you relent, you'll probably ask
For a measure of me as a man.
The best way to tell is the firmness of grasp
Of the words in my strong right hand,

But if I am ever to truly compete,
You will require more.
Observe the size of the footprints I leave
In the language I explore.

Whoever named today hump-day
Is a lucky SOB,
But I've been saving up good luck,
So why can't that be me?

Sonnot x+4: Swinging Through Trees

My youthful fire's tamed a bit,
Been packed in ice for transit.
I no longer move straight to conquer;
My will, for tempering, is the stronger,

But now I've straightened; I proceed with thought.
This is in some ways better, but not
Well suited to proceed with you.
Your mind's no mapped hallway to walk through,

But a maze of thoughts swinging through trees.
I have to look closely, down on my knees
To track them. My youthful instincts for the chase
are gone, so I can't match your wild haste.

If your heart's wilds are the prize,
I wish I weren't so civilized.

Sonnot x+3: Tales of Poet's Drivel

Another girl with pools for eyes;
Another girl with pleasing lines:
The muse is a Sibyl,
Tells of poet's drivel.
(Oh read how he waxes and whines!)

This one is sweet, greets with smiles and laughter;
She's isn't the same as the last I was after.
(That's entirely why
None but my interest died
When fate told me I couldn't have her.)

The quickness with which my attractions mend
Shows they only resemble the real.
The world ain't gonna end
Just 'cause I don't tell
My next beautiful muse how I feel.

Sonnot x+2: Fools

Your eyes, they flash; your hair, the same.
Your lips in me do kindle flame.
In every shade and every part,
I find the mark of beauty's art.

Once we converse, the flame must grow,
As I delight in what you know
Of letters, bodies, foreign lands
(But how much do you understand?)

Each word you say to me is nice.
Each sentence sparkles, smooth like ice.
You kindly offer things, as well,
Though why I'd want them, none can tell.

That which I chase can never be,
But men are fools for what they see.

Sonnot x+1: My Needing

It is no one part of you that fuels my need.
You are in no way as simple as you seem.
Holding your wise silence, your eyes gleam.

Up nature's greatest artist's form my eyes leap,
Til they rest upon a knowledge-ornamented peak.
(This I know.  Though silent now, I've heard you speak.)

You glisten above and below,
and I would take time, learn you slow.
There is so much I want to know.

Must I reveal, or should I hide
My thorough fascination? Beside
Such a sexual, intellectual being,
How could anyone blame my needing?

Sonnot x: Sunshine

My love, your sparkling gaze is like the sun,
So how big must I be before I'm seen
(and might I have a better chance at fun
Pursuing one who won't lord over me)?

My lover's shine is something like the sun
(Though she, in point of fact, is rather thin)
In that she brings me heat and light and fun,
and oft a sense of scorching of the skin.

My sweet's mind's eye may, as the sun,
Penetrate the shady alcoves of my soul
So that I may chart myself when she is gone,
and my knowing of myself may be more whole.

For clouds may come, and sunny weather pass.
For, where we live, the sunshine doesn't last.